To the Mohács cemetery

To the Mohács cemetery, ; Three little girls are walking in it. ; That's why they're walking in it, ; Their mother rests in it. ; ; Get up already, my mother, ; There's no one to worry about us. ; To comb our hair, ; To wash our faces nicely. ; ; Come, girls, to the church, ; Let's fall on each other's shoulders. ; Let's mourn our mother, ; Our nurturing nurse. ; ; Once I was going towards Sopron, ; The sky opened up to three directions. ; The angels were crying, wailing, ; That I am a poor orphan.